Faces of Truth
by I Fancy Hugh Dancy
Summary: One woman struggles to fight for her land, people and freedom. How will she fend throughout these warfilled times? Will she struggle alone, or will love and fate give her a hand?
1. Chapter 1

**+ FACES OF TRUTH +**

**Written by:** Lourdes, a.k.a. **I Fancy Hugh Dancy**

_Today is a winding road_

_That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go_

_Today in the blink of an eye_

_I'm holding on to something and I do not know why_

_I tried_

_I tried to read between the lines_

_I tried to look in your eyes_

_I want a simple explanation for what I'm feeling inside_

_I gotta find a way out_

_Maybe there's a way out_

_Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer_

_Do you know you're unlike any other?_

_You'll always be my thunder, and I said_

_Your eyes are the brightest of all the colours_

_I don't wanna ever love another_

_You'll always be my thunder_

_So bring on the rain_

_And bring on the thunder_

_Today is a winding road_

_Tell me where to start and tell me something I don't know_

_Today I'm on my own_

_I can't move a muscle and I can't pick up the phone_

_I don't know_

_And now I'm itching for the tall grass_

_I'm longing for the breeze_

_I need to step outside_

_Just to see if I can breathe_

_I gotta find a way out_

_Maybe there's a way out_

_Yeah I'm walking on a tight-rope_

_I'm wrapped up in vines_

_I think we'll make it out_

_But you just gotta give me time_

_Strike me down with lightning_

_Let me feel you in my veins_

_I wanna let you know how much I feel your pain_

_Today is a winding road_

_That's taking me to places that I didn't want to go_

_Oh baby bring on the pain_

_And listen to the thunder_

_- __**"Thunder" **_**by Boys Like Girls**

**Rating:** T - MA for violence, language and adult situations in later chapters.

**Genre: **Romance/Drama/Action/Adventure

**Language:** English

**Pairing:** OFC/Lancelot

**Summary:** One woman struggles to fight for her land, people and freedom. How will she fend throughout these war-filled times? Will she struggle alone, or will love and fate give her a hand?

**Disclaimer:** This story is pure fanfiction. People, places and names have been altered to fit into the plot. I do not own any of the knights and other recognizable characters from King Arthur. I own Lourdes and various stock characters that appear later on in the story.

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! Well, I'm back from a hiatus and from my year-long adventure in England + Europe! I've decided to begin a new project since I have not written in ages! It follows the basic movie plot, though I do want to concentrate more on Woad life and will make changes to situations in the movie.

**I would love to hear from anyone and everyone! Any comments, questions, corrections, constructive criticism, suggestions and encouragement are welcome and appreciated!**

**Preface**

Britain was divided by a 73 mile wall, built in the first century AD to protect the Roman Empire from the native fighters of the north. Those who inhabited the northern part of Britain were commonly known as Woads: ancient woodland peoples who, for hundreds of years, continued to resist Roman domination. As the Empire's hold on Britain began to weaken, the Woads and their internal alliances held firm and were strengthened, united by their determination to reclaim what were once theirs. Led by the mystic Merlin, they continuously fight for their land, their peoples, and, most importantly, their freedom.

**Chapter 1**

"They are here."

The whispered voice announced the arrival of a Roman caravan. In the distant horizon, a group of thirty odd Roman soldiers, sitting erect on their fatigued steeds, marched their way through a clear field. Aside from the wheels of the carriages and the neighing and tapping of the hooves of the horses, the group journeyed silently, cautiously watching their surroundings as they did so.

Even in their silence, the Romans did not detect the Woadian warriors observing them in the distance. Covered by the lush foliage of the surrounding woods, the northern warriors silently crept through the trees and bushes, holding their weapons steadily to their sides and gathering into formations. Communicating by mere gestures and tilts of the head, the Woads moved to their respective positions, waiting for the caravan to move in more closely and for the opportune moment to attack.

A female Woad watched every movement intently, her intense brown eyes darting back and forth from the Romans to her comrades. Following the stiff beckon from her commander, she crawled on all fours, her knife between her teeth, before slipping behind a large oak tree. As the stomping of horse hooves became louder, the tension between the warriors heightened, for their moment to strike was near. All their lives would be put on the line for another chance at freedom. Death to the Romans, freedom for the Woads!

Through her concentration, the Woad did not notice her comrade inch his way to her side. Startled by his sudden presence, she let out a gasp, gripping the knife that was formerly in her mouth. Taking a step back, she subsequently slipped on a twig, almost losing her balance and falling into thorned bushes. The male Woad quickly grabbed her in his arms, placing his hand around her lips. "Move not an inch, for the Romans shall see and hear you!" he hissed, turning her around to face him. "Lourdes, you should not have come. You know how your brother worries, " he ran his fingers through her long, raven hair as he finished, "…how I worry."

"Melot," Lourdes smiled at the young Woad's concern, placing a hand upon his cheek, "how would I deserve freedom if I do not fight for it?"

"I thought you would say that." Giving her a smirk, Melot softly pressed Lourdes upon the trunk of the tree, the length of their bodies touching. He traced his lips down the side of her neck before saying, "Just be careful. These are Roman cavalry, not infantry. If they…"

In order to silence him, Lourdes pressed her lips upon his. Firmly breaking the kiss a few moments later, she tilted her head so that her lips were centimeters from his ears. "Whatever you do, Melot, do not be distracted by my presence."

Before the warrior could answer her, a lone arrow shot through the trees, hitting a Roman soldier so forcefully upon his chest that it knocked him fully from his steed. Battle cries erupted from within the woods as a force of Woads emerged, drawing their swords, spears, axes and bows and arrows. They mercilessly came upon the startled Roman soldiers, coming from all sides. With arrows flying in every direction, the Woadian warriors encircled their enemies, their hate and anger for these usurpers and tyrants inflamed in their eyes.

Chaos was everywhere. Smoke and dust covered the air as blood splattered in all directions. Warriors fell left and right: some hit by arrows, others slain and many beheaded. The battle-hardened Roman soldiers surprisingly did not have the advantage, for the Woads, attacking together, outmaneuvered them.

Another group of Woads, including Lourdes and Melot, emerged from the woods to attack from the right flank. Coming upon distracted and unsuspecting Roman soldiers, they ran at full speed, weapons drawn and gazes fixated upon their targets. Through the cries and screams, Lourdes heard the advancing of more hooves behind her, the horses riding at full speed. From the corner of her eye, Lourdes spotted a flying arrow coming towards her. Swerving her body to the hard right, she avoided the arrow, which barely missed her. At the sudden jerk and speed of her run, she tripped on a dead body of a fellow Woad, causing her to tumble roughly upon the blood-stained field. Dropping her weapon and now covered in sweat, dirt and blood, Lourdes groaned as she pushed herself up, desperately searching for a weapon. Stifling the gagging sensation from her throat, she sifted through the mangled corpses, finally finding a sword.

Gripping the heavy weapon in her hand, she looked around at her surroundings, spotting seven warriors who did not resemble Roman soldiers. They exhibited more skill and experience, fighting both on horseback and on foot. Upon the weapons of these warriors fell many of her comrades, outmatched in skill, speed and dexterity. Feeling anger, concern and fear all at once, Lourdes attacked the nearby Roman soldier, quickly slashing his back before turning around in time to deflect the blow of a sword. Holding her weapon steady with all her might, her eyes met those of her assailant's, his twin swords crossed as he pressed them firmly down towards her. Though his teeth remained gritted with anger and force, in his eyes flashed a momentary emotion that was hard for Lourdes to decipher.

Spotting Melot racing towards her from the corner of her eye, she pushed against the might of her attacker, rolling away from his falling swords. As the twisted her head upwards to look back and defend, she felt her heart stop completely.

Melot's advance had not gone undetected by the warrior.

Before her, Melot fell to his knees, stabbed in the heart. As the warrior swiftly retrieved his sword on his left hand, the one that which he held on his right pointed steadily towards Lourdes' neck. Though, his threat and sign of impending death did not faze her. Her eyes remained fixated on Melot's lifeless body, which slowly fell towards the red earth. The female Woad let out a sob, feeling her eyes swell up with tears.

"Get up." The warrior commanded sternly, keeping a sword firmly pressed upon her neck. "Now!"

Lourdes did not heed his call even when the blade began to cut through her skin. Instead, she lowered her head and began to tremble, her sobs now becoming more prevalent as Melot's death began to sink in.

Seeing her state, the warrior's brown orbs observed the body of the Woad he had just killed, then quickly made its way back to the woman in front of him. He repeated his command once more, this time lowering his sword from her neck and roughly grabbing the tangled tendrils of her hair. Pulling Lourdes mercilessly to her feet, he began to push her unkindly towards his comrades, walking through the array of bloodied corpses and weapons. She looked at the massacre of her dead countrymen, feeling her heart grow heavier with every trembling step. Swiftly, the battle began to die down, and the cries of the dying and the wounded were now becoming silenced.

Was all this death the price for freedom?

"Arthur." Her captor called out to his commander, pushing her steadily towards him. Being broken from her trance, a look of recognition filled Lourdes' brown orbs, observing the man now before her: the legendary Arthur Pendragon, half-Roman, half-Briton, commander of legendary Sarmatian knights of the Round Table. Though in an instant, this spark of recognition transformed into pure hatred, for she knew that Excalibur - that which he held to her throat at that very moment – had cut through and killed hundreds, possibly even thousands, of her countrymen.

She did not doubt that she was now to suffer the same fate.

With intense green orbs, Arthur glared at Lourdes, pressing his sword down to her neck in order to render her upon her knees. Lourdes' captor and Arthur's other knights looked on at this display, most trying to catch their breaths and slaying the last of the Woadian warriors.

"Why did Merlin send you south of the wall?" Arthur questioned sternly, the point of his sword never leaving Lourdes' neck.

Lourdes did not lift her head, only her glossy eyes. "_Spill my blood with Excalibur and make this ground holy._" Arthur's eyes squinted, puzzled at her reply. She continued bravely, "_The Woads will continue to fight until we receive justice!_"

Lourdes' captor alternately fixed his gaze upon Arthur, then her, keeping silent at their exchange.

Arthur pulled his sword from her neck. Not heeding the puzzled glances that he received from his knights, he commanded to Lourdes, "Stand." When she did not make an effort to move, he repeated more loudly and firmly, taking a step towards her, "Stand!"

Finally finding her balance, Lourdes propped a hand on her knee, trembling as she found the energy and courage to do as he had commanded. She noticed that Arthur was giving a cursory glance towards the woods in the distance, obviously knowing that Merlin and her countrymen were watching within. His emerald orbs fell upon her once more before lowering his sword, turning on his heel and leaving her unharmed. As the Roman commander stalked away silently from her, Lourdes caught her breath, attempting to calm her shaking body. Looking up, she saw her captor and a giant-like knight observing her with an expression of confusion and pity, though saying nothing nor making a move to harm her. Before turning her back on the pair, she shot a hateful glance at her previous captor - Melot's murderer - then made her way towards Melot's corpse.

As she sifted through the corpses, she found his dirty, bloody body. Glancing at his face, she saw the look of peace. It seemed only as if he were in slumber and nothing else – no pain, no strife. Just peace. Taking his cold hand, she pressed it upon her cheek, rocking back and forth as grief began to overtake her. Finally unable to hold back her emotions, she burst into tears, her sobs audible to those around her. She gave no care. She placed her forehead upon Melot's, giving his blue lips one last kiss before gently laying his body upon the ground once more.

During her moment of pain and anguish, Lourdes did not heed the knight who continued to watch her in the distance. Swallowing as he observed his bloodied hands, he sheathed his twin swords, fighting with himself to either turn his back upon the Woad and, to his confusion, to approach and _comfort_ her. This was such a foreign notion to him – to come in contact with a Woad other than upon the battlefield? The battle had certainly made him weary and delirious!

"Lancelot, Arthur calls for us."

With the voice breaking his trance, Lancelot gave a curt nod to his fellow knight, his eyes never leaving Lourdes' form. "I will be with you shortly, Galahad."

As Galahad made his way to the group of knights, Lancelot prepared to turn and join his comrades. Though, to his surprise, Lourdes had spotted him and met his eyes once more. Picking up the sword beside her, he was utterly sure that she was, at any moment, going to charge at him with all of her might. But she did not. Rather, she merely took one last look at her comrades' body before running into the woods once more.

**A/N**: So how was that for my first fic in months? grins


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Thank you for reading and special thanks go out to Anne Becker, Saxongirl345, Scottishgal12, SilverLight05 and LegolasIsMine for their lovely reviews. I will try to update this story as much as possible, because it's only the beginning! xoxo

t t t

Chapter 2

Standing atop a wooded hill, a lone Woad peered out into the vast fields as the Roman caravan disappeared out of sight. With aching muscles and laboured pants, Lourdes, with what was remaining of her fading strength, raced towards the figure, catching her breath only when she reached his side. The Woad continued to look out into the distance, as if he intently eavesdropped upon a whispered conversation. Holding a wooden staff that was fixed upon the ground, he shifted his gaze towards Lourdes after a few moments, a frown becoming evident upon his wrinkled, blue-painted face. He left an arm outstretched towards the young Woad, which she shakily took, and pulled her in an embrace. Tucked underneath his shoulder, she wrapped herself in his cloakskin, letting out more tears that she had been trying to suppress.

"Merlin, they spared me. Why would they spare me?" Lourdes questioned with much sorrow and anguish lining her voice.

"Do not question the will of our gods, Lourdes." The leader of the Woads replied soothingly, removing his cape entirely in order to completely wrap it around her. "Perhaps Arthur means to exhibit his capability of mercy."

"What mercy he and his men have!" she spat coldly, misty eyes meeting Merlin's, "They slaughter our people without a thought, without care of our troubles. Romans invade our land, and they, who are not even of Roman blood, come to their aid!" she paused, pursing her lips. "I curse them. Every one of them."

"Sister, there you are!"

Both Lourdes and Merlin twisted their head towards the sound of a deep voice behind them. Instantly they recognized Leofric, Lourdes' brother of twenty and six years, striding purposely towards them. Commander of a Woadian battalion, his rugged exterior was no surprise to those around him, battle-hardened by his many years of service to Merlin and his fellow countrymen. As he strode closer, Lourdes could see that on his hard, handsome face was an expression a mixture of concern, relief and question. Suddenly becoming nervous at his presence, she bowed her head, unable to meet his questioning blue eyes.

"Merlin," Leofric greeted cordially, placing a clenched fist upon his chest as he curtly bowed, "I heard news of an attack south of the Wall, and my men and I came as quickly as we could. I have two hundred men behind me, ready for battle, and another hundred on their way. What orders do you give me, sir?"

Merlin slowly lifted his head to meet eyes with the tall, muscular warrior. He replied succinctly, "The battle has taken place and has ended."

Leofric furrowed his brows in confusion, taking a cursory glance around them, "But where are the wounded? The salvaged weapons?"

"There were no survivors," Merlin took a step to the side so that the plain where the battle had taken place was now entirely visible to Leofric, "…save one."

Leofric's eyes widened at the massacre, taking several harsh steps forward near the edge of the hill in order to gain a better view. "Who?"

"Me."

Merlin gave out a deep sigh as Leofric's eyes widened even more, his blazing orbs landing upon Lourdes. "What?" he blinked in utter disbelief. "You…"

"Fought." Lourdes quickly finished for him, her gaze now unflinching as she met her brother's. "Yes, I did."

Unable to speak, let alone take in the shock of his only sister on the battlefield, Leofric turned away from the pair, resting his arm upon a tree trunk in order to keep himself steady. Lourdes gave Merlin a pleading look, obviously at a loss for what to do. In an attempt to dissuade Leofric from becoming more enraged, Merlin walked between them, staring at the back of Leofric's head as he informed him, "Arthur and his knights spared Lourdes. For whatever reason, Leofric, the gods have spared her. Think only of that."

Utterly furious and no longer able to control his rising emotions, Leofric spun around to face Lourdes, an accusatory finger pointed her way, "You should _not_ have been on that battlefield in the first place! What were you _thinking_? You deliberately disobeyed me!"

In a moment of courage, Lourdes stepped forward, looking upwards at her brother. "Stop treating me as though I were a mere child! I am not that little girl anymore, Leofric. I am grown now, and I can take care of myself, whether you like to think so or not!"

"What a _wonderful_ display of your latter statement today, sister! You disobey me, then you almost get yourself killed!" Leofric pointed a shaky finger towards the battlefield, emphasizing his words. "You could be rotting with them as we speak if the Sarmatian knights had not spared you!"

"What do you expect me to do?" Lourdes retorted in the same tone as her brother, somehow able to keep her voice steady. "Sit back, watch and do nothing while our countrymen are slaughtered? Do you know how much it pains for me to see one of us fall? Do you know how much the families of those men and women grieve, suffer? These are harsh times, Leofric. _You_ of all people should know this."

"And you thought to be heroic, then?" Leofric's chest puffed in obvious upset, jaw clenching. "But all you did was attempt suicide! This is no mere archery range or tournament, Lourdes. You think you can fight, but you are not as experienced as our fighters, let alone these Romans and Sarmatian knights!"

"I want to protect our peoples…"

"You can protect our peoples by guiding them and keeping them safely defended, not by running blindly upon a battlefield. What will happen if both of us are taken by this war? What will happen to Lufian, who is naught but nine summers? All that he has now is us. He needs you, Lourdes, especially when I am on duty – not only as a sister, but as a mother."

Lourdes' eyes brimmed with tears – not only brought about by Leofric's heated admonishment for her actions, but for the fear of losing her brothers as well as her grief over Melot. Sinking slowly to the ground, Lourdes wrapped the cloak around her tightly, head hung low. Unable to think of a response, she blurted out, "Melot is dead."

Leofric cursed under his breath, running his hands upon his face, then through his long, dark-brown hair. His heart heavy at this exchange, Merlin stepped forward, placing a hand upon Leofric's slumped shoulder. "We have lost many of our countrymen today, Leofric, but this war is not over yet." Merlin shot Lourdes a sympathetic glance. "I will leave you to comfort your sister. In a few moments we shall gather the dead and hold proper rituals. Then, at nightfall, our Council shall meet and decide our next course of action. I want you to be there."

As Leofric gave a curt nod of understanding and a low bow, Merlin took his leave, walking deeper into the woods. Leofric's eyes then fell upon Lourdes' trembling form, taking a seat beside her. "I apologize, sister. Forgive me for being so blunt and harsh. I was blinded by my concern for your well-being, as I always am. You know that I only think of your safety first." When he received no reply, not even a slight nod, he continued, "Melot was one of my best comrades and one of our most loyal men, and I deeply grieve with you for his loss. I will ensure that he receives a chieftain's service."

"One of Arthur's knights killed him." Lourdes recounted bitterly, as if not hearing a word of what her brother had just said. Gazing upwards with tear-filled eyes, she finished, "I will avenge his death, brother. I swear it."

t t t

In a bustling tavern within the central fortress of Hadrian's Wall sat the great Sarmatian knights of legend. Fatigued from their long journey of successfully retrieving Bishop Germanius and safely escorting him to Hadrian's Wall, they were finally able to take a rest, enjoying the sweet taste of ale, dagger throwing, dice and, of course, women. With so many missions to complete over the years, they had almost forgotten what it felt like to be at their leisure, to do as they pleased without worrying what the morrow would bring.

Upon Galahad's lap sat one of the tavern maids, her attention fully his, utterly engrossed in his tale.

"Yes, we fought the Woads. Hundreds of them today." He recounted darkly, though giving the tavern maid a slight smirk. "But tomorrow, after fifteen years, we officially receive our freedom…and this will all just be a bad memory."

She furrowed her brows, leaning closer to him almost worriedly, "I thought the Woads controlled the north of Hadrian's Wall."

The dark, curly-haired knight gave her a slight nod, "They do, but they occasionally venture south. Rome's highly anticipated withdrawal from Britain has only increased their daring. They want their country back, and will continue to fight long and hard until they have it once more." He paused, taking a languid sip of his bitter drink. "If they are British rebels who hate Rome, then maybe I should join _them_. My hatred for these usurping bastards knows no bounds."

Spotting Lancelot from the corner of his eye, Galahad politely motioned his leave from the young tavern maid. Following his fellow knight to the open exit of the tavern, he called out lightly, "Lancelot, where have you been? You have not drank nor flirted much tonight. Quite unlike you, I must say! Does something trouble you, friend?"

Lancelot twisted his head to meet Galahad's concerned emerald eyes. "To be honest, Galahad, I cannot rightly point to the origin of my worries as of late. Sometimes it seems 'tis only a feeling of some sort, though I fear grows daily. It is as if my instincts grow louder and louder, wanting to be heard, warning me about an impending danger. I cannot halt it."

Galahad gave his comrade a slight frown, patting him sturdily upon the back. "Do not worry about it too much, Lancelot. Look at Gawain, Bors, Dagonet, and even Tristan. They are enjoying themselves this night! We are free men in the morrow." The young knight rightly beamed at this, raising his cup. "Think of that and be merry!"

Lancelot forced a smile, nodding gratefully at Galahad's council. As the young knight wandered off, Lancelot's smile diminished. What he did not speak of was that in his mind lingered the Woad that they had spared almost a month ago. He could not explain it, but her burning eyes, her forlorn expression…it haunted him. It made him unexplainably uneasy. The anguish that she had shown towards her dead comrade – slain by _his_ sword – seemed to have triggered a feeling inside of him that he had not felt in years: remorse. Seeing his bloodied hands, sheathing his bloodied sword…he had indeed become a monster. What Lancelot did not understand was _why_ he felt like so now, after all these years of service, after all the men he had killed. How bizarre it was, after he felt so immune, so desensitized by his…_duty_. _Nevermind._ _It will all end tomorrow_, he thought optimistically to himself, taking a sip of the drink that lingered in the palm of his hand. _When I wake in the morrow, it will all be over._

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a song:

"_Land of bear and land of eagle_

_Land that gave us birth and blessing_

_Land that calls us every homeward,_

_We will go home across the mountains._

_We will go home, we will go home_

_We will go home across the mountains…"_

Lancelot's heart constricted at this: the thought of home. He noticed that the expressions on his fellow knights' faces were identical to his. He knew they felt the same longing – the same pain - that he did. Finishing the last of his drink, he placed it upon the table, slightly hanging his head. He wanted the song to end, the night to end…this _life_ to end.

He wanted to return home.

As the song ended, Arthur's entrance was met by a chorus of enthusiastic greetings. Although the rest of his comrades were in good spirits at his appearance, Lancelot could see by Arthur's unflinching expression that something was not right. As his knights looked at him expectantly, Arthur began, "Knights, brothers-in-arms, your courage has been tested beyond all limits. But I must ask you now for one further trial…"

"Drink!" suggested Bors, the oldest of the knights, to which Galahad chuckled.

Arthur's stone expression did not falter as he continued, "We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted." He was met by more incredulous laughs, but forced onwards, "Above the wall far in the north there is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our _orders_ are to secure their safety."

"Above the wall is Woad territory," the shaggy-haired knight, Gawain, declared disdainfully, "Woad territory that is being conquered by hundreds, possibly thousands, of Saxons!"

"To try and get past the Woads and Saxons in the north is insanity." Lancelot stated with a stone expression, jaw clenched. "Arthur, this is a mission more dangerous than any that we have undertaken, and look how many we have lost already!" he briefly paused as he took a much needed breath, receiving nods of agreement from his fellow knights. "We have not fought the Woads north of the wall. It is suicide!"

Galahad's expression of anger became evident on his handsome face. "Our duty to Rome - if it was ever a duty - is done." He continued bitterly, "Our pact with Rome is _done_."

"These are our orders." Arthur replied, trying his best to persuade his comrades.

"I am a free man!" shouted Bors, his index finger digging upon his chest, "I will choose my own fate!"

"These people need our help." replied Tristan calmly, rationally. He glanced at each of his knights in turn. "You choose death for this family?"

"No, I choose life," Lancelot cried angrily, "and freedom!"

"We are knights. What other purpose do we serve if not for such a cause?" Arthur paused, giving out a deep sigh. "Our freedom will be granted to us the moment we return. I will make sure of it, I promise you."

"We have Arthur's word." Dagonet professed, glancing at each of his comrades. "That is enough for me. I will prepare."

After a few more tense moments of silence, the knights dispersed. Their freedom, which was almost at their fingertips, was rudely snatched from their grasps once more.

t t t

**A/N:** Ooh and the plot thickens! Well, not really, but it will in due time! What'd you think? xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Well, I'm back again! It seems as though I have defeated writer's block with regards to this story, if only for a little while. Thank you to Saxongirl345 and SilverLight05 for reviewing. Once again, it has been a while since I've written a KA fic, so I hope I'm not too rusty! I know it has been forever since I've updated, so I hope you all enjoy this one! xx IFHD

t t t

Chapter 3

"I'm hungry."

"I know, Lufian, I am doing my best."

"Where has Leofric gone? I really like hunting with him, too." The child Woad laughed gleefully at his memories, placing a hand upon his mouth. "He makes funny noises, like this!" Enunciating a sound mimicking a cross between a dying bird and a frightened ass, little Lufian jumped, hopped and skipped around, thrashing his hands about wildly in the air.

Lourdes raised a critical eyebrow as she observed her little brother jump to and fro, kicking fallen branches aside and randomly snatching at hanging leaves. Shaking her head disapprovingly, she placed her palm over her face and groaned. Thank goodness she had no recollection of Leofric ever making such a sound or act in such a manner whilst hunting, for if he did, she would have been certain that he had gone mad!

After a few moments of Lufian's horrid display of…whatever it may have been…Lourdes ruffled his already tangled, dark-brown hair, placing an index finger to her lips in a motion for him to be quiet. "Shh, Lufian!" she began in a hissed whisper, nodding her head behind them. "Do you want dinner? Because after…_that_…you've probably scared every creature away from this part of the woods!"

Lufian puffed up his chest in pride, placing his hands upon his hips for good measure. "I have not!" Alertly scanning their surroundings like a ravenous wolf in order to prove his point to his older sister, he then gleefully exclaimed, "I think I see a rabbit!" before heedlessly bolting after the creature.

"Lufian, do not run from me!" Lourdes called after him worriedly, treading his path in an instant. "You might get hurt!"

As if on cue, the sound of pounding hooves came roaring from the distance, coming closer by the second. With eyes wide, Lourdes darted after Lufian, pushing numerous leaves and branches from her path. Regardless of the rugged terrain, her legs moved fluidly, automatically even, and she swiftly careened through the thick forest as the young boy came closer and closer in sight. "Lufian!" she called out continuously, the rider only a few seconds away and having no idea that a boy was going to cross his path. Finding Lufian stopped right in the middle of the path, Lourdes cried out, seeing that the young lad's feet were firmly nailed to the ground, his face filled with utter fright. As Lourdes reached her brother and yanked his little body out of the path, the rider immediately halted his horse, the steed standing upon its hind legs in nervousness. Out of breath, Lourdes peered upwards at the rider, slightly fearing for their safety. To her relief, though, she recognized him as one of Merlin's commanders.

"My sincerest apologies." He quickly said as he attempted to calm his neighing horse. "Milady, I have grave news for Merlin. Where can I find him?"

Lourdes blinked repeatedly, still somewhat in shock at what could've been a disaster. Embracing her brother in comfort, she croaked out, "Over there by the next bend, just up the river. He currently holds Council with Leofric and the others."

"Thank you, milady." With a nod, the Woad began to steer his horse around the two. As an afterthought, he looked back at them, and in a cryptic manner, said, "Prepare for the worst, milady, for we have more to worry about now than Romans or Sarmatian knights."

With that indeterminate statement, the rider bolted from behind them, the hooves of his horse becoming more and more distant. As he disappeared into the horizon, Lufian suddenly burst into tears. Bringing her attention back to the younger Woad, Lourdes tried her best to soothe him, attempting to calm her own nerves in the process.

The young Woad simply wailed, "That man scared the rabbit away! I was _this close_ to catching it, sister!"

Breathing out in relief and feeling a smile tugging upon her lips, Lourdes kissed his forehead lightly, standing upright. "Come on, Lufian. I must know what the rider meant by what he said."

Without a word of protest, Lufian took one last sob and gave Lourdes a nod of acquiesce. Running as fast as their two feet could carry them, the two made their way towards the Council meeting. Now faintly hearing the crackling of fire and the many hushed voices, Lourdes momentarily stopped to catch her breath, placing her hand upon Lufian's mouth as she pressed her back upon a large oak tree. Slowly peering from the side of the trunk, she caught sight of the rider that they had met earlier standing in the middle of the circle of Woads. Without a word, he stabbed a large knife into the wet earth.

Merlin examined him in slight confusion, and then observed the blade, which he had plucked curiously from the ground. Staring at the numerous engravings, he turned his attention back to the Woadian scout, expecting an explanation.

"Saxon," he informed his countrymen simply, still catching his breath from riding so quickly.

Merlin's eyes grew wide at the news, his grip tightening on the dagger. "How many?"

"Thousands."

As Merlin's face shot with disbelief, Lourdes felt her breathing become laboured, the thought of a massive Saxon incursion weighing heavily upon her heart. How could the Woads possibly defend themselves from enemies attacking from all sides? Would they even have enough men to do so after so many years of struggle and bloodshed?

"Our forces are strong." She heard Leofric state with much conviction, breaking the tense silence that hung in the air. He stood as unyielding pride coursed through his veins, his expression that of utter determination. "We have retained most of our land when the Angles were completely conquered. We have defended our borders from the Romans when they have outnumbered us ten to one." His expression hardened, straightening his back and tilting his chin upwards. "Do not forget the reason that they built Hadrian's Wall all those years ago: so that these bastardly cowards can hide behind it from our wrath!"

A chorus of mighty cheers erupted from the circle of men. Leofric gave a nod of approval at this reaction, eyes landing on Merlin, who kept silent. For a few moments, Merlin considered Leofirc's speech, finding himself inspired and momentarily comforted by his words. Gripping his staff tightly, the Woad leader stood, arms outstretched to his sides. "Commanders! Gather your men. Make ready your weapons. We will defend this country until each of us has fallen." He was met with agreeing responses as he continued, "If there is one thing we can do, it is protect our home, our lands and our people. Make ready the traps upon the northern and southern entrances of the woods. Whoever dares enter our territory will receive our special greetings."

t t t

The threat of a thunderstorm loomed menacingly above them. Upon the heavens hung dark, heavy clouds, positioned to cover the entire forest. Without warning, claps of lightning zigzagged through the angered, velvet skies, touching the sodden earth for a mere moment at a time and then disappearing as quickly as it had come. Thunder rumbled in their wake, its vibrations coursing through the bodies of every creature. The word of the massive Saxon incursions, as well as the ensuing course of action they intended to follow to protect themselves from it, spread quickly amongst the Woads. In a matter of hours, the Council had gathered all of their peoples and nearby supplies, instructing them to spread out amongst the forest to build, install and hide various traps. They all wholeheartedly complied, finding that their determination to be rid of the Saxons and Romans alike was their fuel to continue working through their fatigue and hunger.

Out of all of the Woads, Lourdes was one of the most determined to build their defenses. Exhibiting the skills of leadership that was in her family's blood, she supervised a handful of Woads who were diligently building spiked traps, kindly instructing them on how to make the bonds of rope stronger and, in effect, rendering the trap more effective. She seemed as though she was Leofric's second in command, for the Woads treated her authority with much respect. She herself had prepared traps and weapons, working in the rain for hours upon end, barely heeding the calls of hunger.

As she had just finished tying the last of the traps, a hissed murmur spread through the Woads around her. Instinctively reaching for the dagger resting upon her belt and keeping her bow to her side, she began to follow her countrymen as they stealthily moved through the forest in a strict line. Carrying their spears and bows and arrows to their sides, they remained silent, ears perking to the distant sound of panicked hooves. The hushed Woads around her moved into position, continuously creeping through the trees and bushes, forming a loose circle around the path. In her line of vision, Lourdes spotted seven knights upon steeds, haphazardly dashing through the muddied path, intent on escaping Woadian traps. Placing her back firmly upon a tree trunk, Lourdes positioned herself so that she would have a clear shot at the knights below with her bow and arrow. As they rode closer and closer, she felt intense hope that their defenses would work.

The knights were steadily careening into their trap.

In a sudden, abrupt movement, the spiked trap that Lourdes had helped install sprung from the ground, reaching for the hooves of the horses. Having been carefully camouflaged and covered by fallen branches and leaves, the knights and their steeds were taken by surprise. The horses neighed and kicked in utter fright as the knights desperately held onto the flapping reigns, simultaneously attempting to keep their balance and dodge whizzing arrows. Lourdes could see her comrades letting loose their roped arrows, whistling through the trees, firmly embedding themselves upon tree trunks. The knights were now caught in a web, their escape route blocked. The horses' hooves seemed rooted upon the ground in fright, refusing to move, and the knights could do nothing but stare at the myriad of Woads now surrounding them, weapons drawn. The cries of the Woads pierced the air, seemingly engulfing the intruders. With their spears drawn, they pointed them dangerously towards the knights, who had managed to sheathe their swords in preparation for battle.

Amidst the confusion and desperation of the moment, Lourdes bravely emerged from behind the tree trunk, bow and arrow stiffly drawn, instantly aiming for her targets. Lancelot looked down upon her, teeth gritted, sword held high beside him. In a moment of simultaneous recognition, the two locked eyes, their brown orbs both aflame. Without another moment of thought, Lourdes released her arrow, aiming straight for Lancelot. The knight tried to evade the speedy projectile, but it eventually caught his left arm, cutting through his tunic and bare skin. Lancelot hissed and Lourdes gave out a grunt of frustration at this outcome. She felt the rage coursing through her veins, emotional pain surging through her body. Quickly reloading, Lourdes pointed her arrow once more upon Lancelot – Melot's murderer, she reminded herself – intent on instantly killing him.

Suddenly, Lourdes recognized a Woadian horn sound in the distance, which caught all of their attentions. Lourdes looked in the direction of the sound, then back towards her target. Simultaneous indecision and confusion marked her expression, reflecting that of the knights'. Lancelot's intense orbs bore into Lourdes', teeth still gritted, sword still held high, as she kept her weapon steadily upon him.

"What are you waiting for?" He barked at her, even holding his arms out as if to taunt her.

Hesitation filled her.

Lourdes' piercing eyes surveyed Lancelot, then the lot of knights, breathing out her anger as the horn blew once more. In a moment that neither Lourdes nor Lancelot thought would come, she finally lowered her bow and arrow, causing Lancelot to even furrow his brows in question. Without breaking her dark stare upon the knight, she took a cautious step back, and then another. In an instant, she bolted from the scene, disappearing into the cover of the woods.

t t t

**A/N:** Don't forget to review! I want to know what you guys think! xx


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